A Twist of Fate
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: Emma senses that something isn't quite right about Robin Hood and his budding relationship with Regina. She begins to investigate and discovers the dark truth of Robin's deadly plan, leading to an altercation with the man that results in his death at Emma's hands. How will Regina react when she learns the truth? Rated M for violence and bloodshed.


**A/N: Hello again, friends. This is yet another prompt fill that was intended to be a drabble but ended up as an epic one-shot. The prompt was very extensive, and in a few places, quite specific. It was a well-thought-out prompt, and I hope this fill does it justice. **

**I wrote this one-shot to the soundtrack of "We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow" by Soko. Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

**Trigger Warnings: Violence/bloodshed**

**A Twist of Fate**

The uncomfortable lurch of her stomach had never ceased. It was perpetual from the moment she realized that something was brewing between the mother of her son and this strange man brought over with the second curse. It had taken up residence beneath her flesh the moment Regina's fingers slipped between Robin's, the moment Emma had witnessed their lips press together in a sudden, fast, passionate whirlwind of a moment outside of Granny's Diner.

She had witnessed only minor flirtations before then, only shy smiles, witty banter, things that made Emma's skin crawl with familiarity. A year ago, she had stood there, where he now stood, sharing those smiles, that banter, those moments with Regina that spoke of more than a rivalry both only pretended to have after a certain point. It made her uncomfortable, the realization that it had once been her in that place and now...it wasn't.

It had been hard enough to wrap her mind around the reality of "Robin Hood" and the fact that the guy actually DID call his friends his "merry men." But then, it got harder. The way he looked at Regina, and worse, the way the former queen returned those not-so-subtle glances...Emma had been terrified and surprised to realize just how hard that actually had been to witness.

What made it even more unbearable, though, was the lack of knowledge she had about Robin. Something about the man didn't sit right with Emma, and it wasn't just because she was realizing that maybe she had some seriously repressed feelings for Regina Mills; at least, she told herself it wasn't.

She couldn't wrap her mind around Robin's seeming infatuation with Regina; not that Regina wasn't deserving of attention, because she was. Emma was more than aware of that. Regina was a stunningly attractive woman after all, and more than that beneath the surface. It was more that...well, Robin Hood didn't _know _her.

Of course, he could have gotten to know her during their forgotten year in the Enchanted Forest, Emma considered, but that would have had no bearing on them in Storybrooke. They were without their memories, after all; thus, all the blonde thief should remember about Regina was that she was the Evil Queen and a woman that hunted him and his men for years, killed dozens, hundreds maybe. He hadn't witnessed Regina's redemption. He hadn't seen her grow. He hadn't seen her softer sides. He hadn't been with her every goddamn step of the way, not like Emma had; so, what was he playing at?

Every other person in Storybrooke, even those that had actually cared about Regina for years like Snow, were wary of her, and _those _people had actually witnessed much of Regina's fight to be good.

So this...it just didn't make sense to Emma. She herself wasn't afraid of Regina, but she had never been a terrible fool about the woman either. She knew what Regina was capable of and knew her history, and Emma had even had a few moments of doubt herself where the other woman was concerned. Of course, she had learned better.

This man, though, despite only ever knowing Regina as the Evil Queen was throwing himself at her, was digging at all her weak spots, appealing to her in ways that embedded beneath the surface-flattering her maternal instincts, flattering her physical aspects, flattering her boldness and her bravery. Emma had to give it to him-his game was strong, treating Regina as a hero rather than a villain or a villain on the mend as some liked to think, but what _exactly was _his game?

Emma was damn near certain it wasn't winning Regina's heart. No, this was too easy, too fast, too...pushy. It didn't sit right with her at all.

Still, Emma tried to be respectful. She tried to keep her distance. She tried not to get too involved, because she didn't know if she had ever seen Regina smile so frequently. Sure, Regina had shared many small smiles with her, had spared countless for Henry, but these smiles were different-they weren't so lonely. It killed Emma at the same time that it elated her.

Still, she couldn't deny her feelings to herself any longer. Even if she was hesitantly content to let Regina find her happiness elsewhere, Emma wasn't going to put herself through a pointless relationship or string someone along; not when her heart lay elsewhere. So, she turned Hook down. She taught her heart to be quiet to love, except where Henry was concerned.

But when Emma went to leave the diner that night and stumbled upon Regina and Robin, lips locked together, everything changed. She had frozen in place, that kiss like ice water washing over her entire body. When she was finally able to make her feet move, she had turned to leave, turned to go back inside, turned to get the hell away from the physical manifestation of her pain. But then something caught her eye.

Just a flash of silver, glinting in the moonlight. Emma turned back, eyes narrowing, and sick chills shot down her spine as she realized what she was seeing. Robin's hands had woven into Regina's hair, as was common with such passionate kisses, but that glint of silver had come from the man's left hand.

Emma took one quiet and quick step forward to see from a better angle, and that's when she realized that the glinting object in Robin's hand was a small pair of scissors.

"What the hell?" she whispered under her breath, and then her stomach sank as she watched the man carefully pull a strand out, as if merely running his fingers through Regina's hair, the woman oblivious to anything beyond the kiss. He then snipped away a small chunk of hair, folding it into his right palm, and then in a classic con move, slipped the scissors back up the sleeve of his shirt.

Emma's body moved before she commanded it to, her feet carrying her quickly out. By the time she realized what she was doing, though, Robin and Regina had heard her. They pulled apart, and Regina turned.

Forest eyes locked onto deep chocolate, and Emma's heart clenched at the way Regina's cheeks blushed in the moonlight. "Oh, Emma," she said softly, her lips moving in a way that communicated she was at a loss for words. So was Emma.

She didn't have a damn clue what she had just witnessed, but she had come to know enough about magic and potions and all of that crap to know that if someone was secretly cutting away locks of hair, then something wasn't right. There was definitely something foul going on. Emma could smell it in the air, in the fucking excessive cologne wafting off of the man now across from her and still clutching Regina's hand. He had apparently taken to a few of the things of this world—in excess if the cologne was anything to go by.

Robin laughed awkwardly and quickly cut in. "Good evening, Sheriff."

Emma didn't even bother looking at the guy. Instead, she just kept her eyes locked on Regina's, and her entire body jumped, elated, when Regina stared back and slowly but surely pulled her hand away from Robin's.

"Her Majesty and I were just-" Robin began, but Emma cut him off.

"Making out?"

She hated herself for it, for the childish remark, but she couldn't help herself. Her head and her heart were a fucking mess of emotions-hurt, jealousy, rage, confusion, worry, fear.

Regina's eyes narrowed a bit, and Emma expected a bitchy remark in return, but instead, Regina just watched her, head tilting-and Emma recognized that look. It was concern.

Robin, though, did that same awkward chuckle that made Emma's teeth grind, as he scratched at the scruff on his face and said, "I suppose you caught us."

"Yeah," Emma snapped out. She had definitely caught _him. _She wanted to grab the man's arm and reveal the scissors, interrogate him about what she had just seen. She wanted to retrieve the lock of precious hair from the hand he had slipped into his pocket a moment ago. She wanted to protect Regina from whatever that hair was capable of doing, but at the same time, she couldn't give herself away.

Emma knew not only from the stories she had read, but from the way Robin had smoothly gone about the hair-cutting, that he was a skilled thief and con-artist. Regina, in her infatuation with him, would likely not believe it if Emma raised questions. Of course, she could expose the man, but she expected he had ways to cover his tracks, and that made Emma uneasy.

No, she would have to go about this carefully, slowly, and hopefully without severe consequences.

She let out a soft sight then, resolving to let this moment go and then begin her little investigation into Robin Hood tomorrow. "I was just going," she said, and then she was moving again, brushing by them and heading out into the Storybrooke night.

She only managed to get a few steps away, though, before she heard heels clicking rapidly behind her, accompanied by a soft, "Emma?"

Emma turned at the sound of her name, made more beautiful by Regina's voice, and they locked gazes once more. Regina took a step forward, just a bit closer, and Emma tried to ignore the way that Robin hovered a few feet back.

"Are you okay?" Regina asked quietly, and Emma was surprised. Sure, they were friends. In fact, sometimes, it felt like they were more than that, but it was rare that Regina openly showed how much she cared; for anyone outside of Henry at least. The realization that maybe this little fling with Robin was opening Regina up to being softer, to being more affectionate, was both heartbreaking and heartwarming.

In that moment, part of Emma really wished she had never seen those scissors, wished Robin had never had them. Because Regina...Regina deserved this, this happiness-love, affection, everything.

"Fine," Emma told her, softening her voice. She offered Regina a shrug and a forced smile, and then turned to leave before the brunette could speak another word.

She walked home with her heart aching in her chest. If Robin wasn't genuine, it would crush Regina. How the hell was she going to help Regina through this...if it was even what she suspected? God, would things ever get easier?

* * *

Emma didn't sleep much in the following weeks. She couldn't. She couldn't get her brain to quiet, couldn't stop picturing Robin Hood touching Regina with his hands, with his mouth, with...anything. She couldn't stop biting her tongue, clenching her fists, fighting back the stinging in her eyes. She couldn't.

She spent her nights, instead, pouring over all her previous encounters with Robin Hood, all the times she had seen him with Regina or around Regina. She was trying to remember if anything had been off, other than the obvious affection. She was trying to pick apart the fuzzy images in her mind for clues that didn't seem to be there; at least, not until after she caught the man clipping Regina's hair.

The clues had begun to pop out at her after that-the way his affection never truly reached his eyes when he looked at Regina, the way he would only let the woman hold Roland for so long before he would snatch the boy away, playing it off with a laugh or an arm slung around Regina's waist. His love wasn't genuine. In fact, there were times when Robin seemed almost wary of Regina, as if he could only tolerate her; he hid it well, though. Either that, or Regina just refused to see it, because the more Emma watched, the more apparent it became.

Emma had realized as much in the weeks she had been secretly, silently stalking the man, following him when she had some free time from the station, following him nearly every time he was with Regina whether she had free time or not. She didn't want the man alone with Regina, not if she could help it. There was too much at risk, too much that could go wrong.

And if Emma was being honest with herself, she was scared. Outside of those subtle little hints, though, Emma hadn't discovered much in her time following Robin. He merely spent time with Regina and Roland and then went home. Of course, she hadn't seen inside the guy's new house, so there was that, but from what she had seen, there was nothing terribly suspicious. Unless the guy just had a freaky hair fetish, though, there was just no other explanation for what Emma had witnessed at the diner that night, and that kept her resolved in her mission. And the fact that she knew so little only made her fear grow.

She had brought the guy up a few times with her parents, just trying to get a feel for what they thought of him. Snow was positively giddy about the man's budding relationship with Regina, something along the lines of, "Love is exactly what Regina needs, and he is rather dapper, isn't he?"

David had merely shrugged. "He's great with a bow and arrow," he'd said, "and seems to really love his son. He seems like a decent guy from what I've seen."

"But you guys don't think it's kind of weird how close he's getting to Regina?" Emma had asked them. "I mean, you don't think it seems like weirdly fast for someone who only really knows her as the Evil Queen? Just seems kinda strange to me. How do we know he's not working for someone or is like evil or something?"

"Emma, honey, the man stole from the rich to give to the poor," Snow had replied, rocking the week-old addition to the family atop her chest. "That's hardly evil, and we both know Regina is changing. Maybe he sees that in her."

"He's known her for like five minutes," Emma argued, watching her baby brother's chubby hand clench around Snow's necklace.

"Maybe you're just being paranoid, Em," David offered, "because of all the stuff that happened with Zelena."

She and Regina had combined their magic to defeat Zelena and free Rumpelstiltskin from her hold, and thus, Storybrooke had been Wicked-Witch-free for a few weeks now. The strange thing was, though, that the memories didn't return. No one had been able to explain it, but Rumpel and Blue had been working on potions to restore them. It was merely a matter of getting it right and creating the right amount.

Emma sighed, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, maybe," she whispered, the words a complete lie. She knew better.

Her instincts had never failed her. In fact, the only times that Emma had ever ended up being screwed over were the times she had failed to listen to her instincts. She wouldn't make that mistake again.

* * *

A few days later, she was driving Henry over to Regina's. Blue had actually been the one to manage a potion to restore the kid's memories. It had worked on him but not on those from the Enchanted Forest. Blue said it was because Regina's spell worked differently than a curse. She hadn't given up on perfecting a concoction for the other residents though. It was merely taking longer than expected.

Ever since Henry drank the potion, he wanted more and more time with Regina. Emma sensed it was not only because obviously Regina was his mother and he loved her, but because the kid somewhat felt like he was being replaced with little Roland.

"Hey kid," Emma said softly as they drove toward 108 Mifflin Street, "how do you feel about this new guy in your mom's life."

"I don't like him," Henry said simply, and Emma was completely surprised at the immediacy of the reaction.

"Oh, um, okay," Emma replied. "Why is that?"

"I don't know," Henry answered, shrugging and keeping his face turned away from her and toward the window. "He just...he makes Mom happy. I can see that, and I want her to be happy, but he doesn't look at her like..."

A long moment of silence stretched on, Henry never finishing his sentence, and Emma just letting it hang. When she pulled into Regina's driveway, though, she turned and looked at her son. "Like what?" she asked him.

Henry let out a soft sigh, his hand curling around the door handle. "Like you do," he said, and then he was gone, practically leaping out of the car and sprinting up to the front door of the mansion. Emma simply sat there, gaping at his empty seat with her heart pounding in her chest.

* * *

Emma even went as far as to approach Regina about Robin. She had gone into the diner to grab a cup of coffee when she saw Regina sitting in a booth alone, reading a paper and drinking a coffee of her own. Emma thought she was a beautiful sight-different than before, more relaxed, softer, but just as breathtaking as always.

Yeah, she had basically come to terms with the fact that Regina Mills had her heart; well, not in the literal sense.

Emma figured this was her one chance to pick Regina's brain on the issue considering the fact that Robin was nowhere to be seen, and she went over and slid into the booth, across the table from the brunette.

"Hey," she said, silently cursing the way her voice shook.

The newspaper lowered, and Regina offered her a small smile. "Emma," she said with a nod, and Emma reveled in it, in the fact that she was always just Emma now.

"Listen, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?" the blonde asked, and Regina nodded.

"I expected you would like to talk to someone at some point, though I rather imagined it would be Archie," Regina said, putting her newspaper aside and bringing her coffee to her lips. "He is certainly more qualified."

"Huh?" Emma asked, her face scrunching.

"I'm sorry," Regina said, brows furrowing in confusion. "Perhaps I've misread."

"What were you thinking I wanted to talk about?"

Regina lowered her voice, glancing around a bit, "About your parents, of course," she said, "and the new baby. I imagined you might be feeling a bit...overwhelmed. You've been rather withdrawn lately. Even Henry has noticed, and you and I…" She hesitated, her expression making her discomfort clear. "You and I haven't interacted much lately either."

Emma's heart clenched to the point of crumbling, because the fact that Regina knew her so well and actually really seemed to care only made it so much harder for Emma to do this, to interfere in anything, to stay away, to...everything.

"Oh, well, ye-um, no, that's not what I wanted to talk about," Emma told her, not wanting to get caught up in the conflicted emotions she was still struggling with about her parents' new baby.

"I see," Regina replied smoothly, accepting. "Then, what is it?"

"It's about you, actually," Emma told her, and that earned her an arched brow. "Well, it's more about who you're dating."

"Robin," Regina said, nodding softly. "I imagine you are bringing this up on our son's behalf? I know Henry doesn't seem to care for him, but I believe he will come around with time."

Emma jumped on the opportunity, using Henry's dislike of the man and Regina's apparent knowledge of it to her advantage. She could clearly steer into a conversation about Robin with such a good cover. "Yeah, he really doesn't like him," Emma agreed, nodding, and she hated the way such a confirmation caused conflict and guilt to brew in Regina's eyes. "But he didn't like Walsh at first either."

"Yes, and Walsh turned out to be a flying monkey," Regina said, pinning her with a pointed stare.

"Right." Emma clucked her tongue awkwardly. "So…listen, is it serious with this guy? I mean, I don't want to get in your business, Regina, but it just seems fast, and I want to make sure that you're not like blinded by affection or something."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina asked her, her tone taking on an edge that warned Emma to back off, but she couldn't. "Are you implying that I'm some doe-eyed fool who cares more about my own affections than my son's feelings?"

"No, _no_ Regina," Emma said, tapping her hand against the table between them. "I just…you don't really even know the guy. Are you sure he's safe? I mean, all he remembers is that you were the Evil Queen, but he's been chasing after you from the get-go. You don't think that's a little suspicious?"

"Oh, because no one could possibly be interested in the Evil Queen, is that right?" Regina snapped, and she didn't give Emma a chance to reply before she pushed herself out of the booth. She pinned Emma with a cold glare as she said, "Simply because you and your precious family can't see the good in me, doesn't mean that everyone is unable."

"Regina, please, that's not what I—"

"Oh, and for future reference, _Miss Swan_, do keep your nose out of my business."

And with that, Regina whirled on her heel and shot out of the diner, leaving Emma even more conflicted than before.

* * *

Emma didn't have a clue what Robin's motive was, but she knew the man was bad news. She hadn't truly realized just how bad he was, though, until a few days after the diner incident with Regina.

Emma was sitting in the police station late at night, going over some paperwork that she had left unattended for far too long, when she glanced up and saw the man across the street. Emma quickly flicked off the lamp on her desk so that the station went dark, and she darted over to the window.

Robin was across the street, walking briskly and headed in the direction that Emma knew his house to be. The strange thing was that he was alone. He typically had Roland with him, though it easily could have been that Roland was with one of the merry men. The stranger thing was that the man appeared a little on edge. He glanced behind and around him countless times in the short span of sidewalk before rounding the corner toward his block. It made Emma uneasy.

Before she could think better of it, Emma grabbed her jacket and her gun and set out after him.

Emma Swan was a master at tailing people, though she could admit that Robin was much more attentive that most people. She imagined he had likely tailed a few people in his days in the Enchanted Forest. He looked in the directions most people didn't. He paid attention to angles, to shadows, to tree-lines. It made it incredibly difficult to follow him, but Emma managed. He was good, she could give him that, but she was better.

She followed him to his small house, and she watched as he took one last look around before disappearing inside. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Emma darted over to the house. She started with the windows, peering in window after window, but each only went into a small room—a bathroom, a bedroom, a kid's room. She made her way around the house, though, and found a screened back door.

She could see into the kitchen through the door, and it was empty, which gave her an in.

"Please be unlocked," she muttered under her breath as she tried the handle. It wasn't. She sighed as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small lock pick. As shady as it was, yes, she still carried a lock pick around with her wherever she went. Old habits die hard, or they don't die at all. She had to admit that it was a nifty tool to have as Sheriff—much better than kicking doors in.

She picked the lock quickly and skillfully, and then slowly and quietly poked her head inside the back door. She listened for any sounds coming from rooms further into the house, but she heard nothing, and the next thing Emma knew, she was standing in Robin Hood's kitchen.

Oh, what the hell was she doing? She could not believe that she had just broken into a man's house based on nothing more than a gut feeling, and yet, she still found herself inching forward. She went through each room in the house and found nothing. Where the hell was the guy? Had he just fucking disappeared into thin air?

Emma started to make her way back toward the back door of the house, when something she had previously missed caught her eye. A section of the floor in the living room…it was, well, it was glowing. There was light emitting from beneath the floor boards. Emma moved a little closer to see, since it was rather dark in the house, and that's when she noticed what she had missed. A small, almost imperceptible handle. There was a door.

Emma took a deep breath and pulled up on the handle of the door as quietly as she could, exposing a set of stone steps leading down into a cellar or basement of some sort. She could hear things clinking, like glass or something, and then there was a fizzling sound, almost like when you throw an antacid tablet into a cup of water. She couldn't take the not-knowing. She had to see what was going on, because why the hell did Robin Hood have a creepy hidden cellar, and what the hell was he doing down there?

She inched her way down the steps, as quietly as possible, until she just barely had a view of what was going on. Thankfully, the thief's back was facing her, but it was instantly clear that whatever he was up to wasn't good. Emma watched as the man pulled a small vial from a pocket in his jacket. It was filled with a clear liquid. He then reached for something on the table in front of him where there was what looked to be a little chemistry set or something like that. Was Robin making potions?

That confused Emma, because, well…she thought the man hated magic, or at least, he was strongly opposed to it. At least, that's what she had heard him say on countless occasions, all of which having taken place when Regina was not around, of course.

But, Emma had seen Regina make more than one potion since her return to Storybrooke, and this process _definitely _looked similar.

Where had he even gotten all the ingredients? And the instruments? Had he stolen these things from Regina's house? Or her office? Or maybe Rumpelstiltskin's shop?

Robin was a skilled thief after all. He would have been patient enough to pull it off.

A chill then shot down Emma's spine as she realized that the item the man had just grabbed was the lock of hair he had cut from Regina's head weeks prior.

"Finally," she heard him say as he then dropped the hair into the vial followed by another liquid that he had apparently brewed in his little chemistry set. The liquid in the vile fizzled loudly, sparking even, before turning a bright red.

Emma shrank up a little higher on the stairs when Robin turned to the side. She didn't want to risk being seen if she could learn a little more while the man thought he was alone. Still, she prepared herself, pulling her gun from the holster on her hip as quietly as possible and readying it in front of her.

Robin walked over to a tall shelf on the far left side of the room, and Emma had to force herself not to gasp as the man then pushed the shelf aside to reveal a hidden room, a dim light emitting from within. Emma went a little further down the stairs as Robin disappeared into the hidden room, wanting to get a better view or perhaps hear something that would tip her off as to what Robin Hood was doing brewing potions with Regina's hair.

It was only moments before the motive became clear, and Emma's stomach lurched so forcefully that she feared she might release its contents right there on the cellar floor.

"It's finally finished, my love," she heard Robin say from within the hidden room, and though Emma didn't have a clue who the man was talking to in there, she was 99.9% positive that it wasn't Regina. "I told you I would find a way, Marian, and in no less than an hour, my darling, the queen shall be dead and our family will be reunited—you, me, and Roland, of course."

Emma's blood ran cold, freezing in her veins. Robin was going to kill Regina.

But why? Emma had been told that Robin's wife, Marian, had died in the Enchanted Forest some time ago, so who was Robin actually talking to? Was the man insane? Was he delusional? How in the hell would it be possible to kill Regina and revive Marion in one swift move? That potion could do that?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell was she going to do? She had to protect Regina. She had to fix this. She had to get this lunatic behind bars before he could irreparably harm her family. Yes, she considered Regina her family—the woman was the mother of her son after all.

And Emma wasn't about to let anyone hurt her.

She eased her way down the rest of the stairs, gun at the ready, and inched toward the opening of the hidden room. Just as she reached the opening, the toe of her boot caught on an uneven place in the stone flooring. The minute stumble made enough sound to capture Robin's attention, and the man whirled quickly around, his eyes wide and dangerous.

Emma's gun remained firmly in front of her. "Don't move," she said quickly.

"Sheriff Swan," Robin replied smoothly after a moment, his gaze darting around quickly as if searching for the nearest weapon. Emma noted that, as far as she could see behind Robin, there was nothing more than a tall lamp and a small wooden chair. Robin put his hands up in a show of surrender. "May I ask why it is that you have broken into my home?"

"Let's cut the shit," Emma snapped out. "I already heard you talking about your little plan to kill Regina. Not going to happen."

Robin pursed his lips a moment, and Emma honestly expected him to attempt to deny the accusation; thus, she was surprised when the man sighed and said, "I'm afraid it is, Sheriff. You see, I need a sacrifice of life, and this potion provides it. A life for a life as Zelena promised. Unfortunately, you and the _queen _bested her before she could fulfill her end of our bargain; thus, it has been upon my shoulders to complete the task of brewing the potion. Regina will die, and my love will be restored."

Emma could not believe the shit spewing out of the man's mouth. Her head was positively spinning as she inched a bit closer, and that's when she crossed the threshold into the hidden room and saw something that made her stomach clench. A glass coffin containing the preserved form of whom she could only assume was Robin's wife.

Emma's momentary shock and distraction sorely cost her. Lights popped behind her eyes as her vision blurred with the forceful blow of the wooden chair to the side of her head. She reeled, teetering over to one side as the sound of splintering wood ripped through the air, but catching herself before she could fall. She whirled, vision blurred and dizziness mounting, to make out the fuzzy image of Robin standing just behind her.

She was surprised to realize that the man wasn't trying to flee. As crimson flowed from the now open gash on the side of her head, Emma's vision slowly began to clear, one hand clutching her head and the other still latched around her gun. As soon as her vision cleared enough to look into Robin's eyes, Emma knew that the man didn't intend on letting her leave the place alive.

"You know you'll never get away with it," Emma said as her heart pounded against her ribcage. "No one would just let you walk free if you killed her."

"I think you overestimate the town's love of the Evil Queen," he responded sharply. "No one would question the truth in my words were I to claim she attacked me, were I to claim she attempted to steal my son, were I to claim I caught her performing dark magic and struck to protect myself and others. None would question it because she is as her name suggests."

"You're wrong about that," Emma snapped at him, her words lazier on her tongue than she intended. Her head was pounding as it bled. "But even if you weren't, the town would never let you get away with killing _me_. You may be able to spin that Evil-Queen bullshit, but no one will believe you about the Savior."

Robin's eyes flashed at the words as if he hadn't considered as much. Then again, he hadn't expected to be caught at all.

"And you don't think people will notice the fact that your wife is suddenly alive again?" Emma added. "All I've heard since you got here are mentions of how she passed, and you think people will just shrug it off when she's up walking and talking again out of nowhere?"

Robin's eyes narrowed at her. He had certainly considered _that _particular aspect, but it had been his plan to keep Marian hidden for an appropriate amount of time after Regina's death, and then present her as a new person he was dating—some random new person brought over with the second curse, different name and all. His merry men would of course stand by him. How he could pull that off when the Sheriff knew everything, though, was particularly confounding. The only plausible solution he could fathom was to dispose of the blonde, but as the Savior had explained, that would be problematic.

Zelena was supposed to have been around for this part. She was supposed to be able to alter memories, haze reality, make it so that no one questioned what had happened. Without her magic, Robin's plan was strained. He had been so sure the deal would pan out, that Zelena would be more powerful than Regina, and she was.

What he hadn't been aware of was Emma Swan, and the fact that her magic combined with the queen's was practically unstoppable.

Still, he had to go through with this. It had taken him forever to find all the proper ingredients in Zelena's now abandoned cabin, Regina's office, and Rumpel's shop, but he had finally managed them all, and he wasn't about to let this woman get in the way of his happiness.

"I thought you were supposed to be one of the good guys," Emma said, trying to appeal to the man's heart or maybe the man's guilt; either would hopefully work. "I thought you were supposed to be against the use of dark magic. I thought you despised it. I thought you were supposed to be honorable, but taking a person's life just so that you can satisfy your own selfish desires? That's not honorable."

"The queen hardly deserves to live," Robin growled out. "She has yet to pay for her crimes, and in our land, she would have been sentenced to death. I am merely enacting the inevitable and if I am to benefit from such an act, then so be it. Grief changes a man. It changes the heart. It can push you to do things you never thought yourself capable of."

"Oh I get that," Emma told him, keeping her gun steady in front of her. The angrier and more flustered Robin became, the more likely he was to make a mistake, and Emma had to be alert to catch it. "I've had plenty of grief, but I've never manipulated someone into loving me just to turn on them. I could never be that cruel."

"Enough of this!" Robin snapped, his eyes hard with his panic. "I am doing what is best for my son, for my wife."

That was too much for Emma. She just exploded, making the mistake of lowering her gun just a fraction. Such a movement only stirred confidence in the man across from her.

"What about what is best for MY son?!" Emma shouted at him. "You may think Regina deserves this, but _Henry _doesn't, and he loves his mother. You would crush him by doing this, by not only taking his mother from him but by making him believe that she died a villain."

Emma didn't see it coming. She hadn't expected the man to lunge, and yet he did. The surprise attack caught her so off guard that as soon as Robin's body barreled into hers, her own body reacted. Her finger pressed against the trigger. She fired.

The shot was loud, hot. It ripped through the air like a permanent echo, ringing through Emma's soul even after the sound died down. The smell of the heated metal, of the smoke from the shot, tingled in her nostrils as the full weight of the thief collapsed atop her. It was mere seconds before she felt a rush of hot liquid begin to seep through the front of her clothes.

"Oh god," Emma panted out, breathless beneath Robin's limp form. "Oh god, oh god," she muttered again, now struggling to push the man off of her. She finally managed to roll his body off of her own, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest as she saw his eyes, half-open but still.

There was blood. There was so much blood. It spilled out of him, out of the now-open wound in his chest, just over the left side, a straight shot to one of his most vital organs.

"Oh god, no," Emma mumbled, her voice like a growing whine. Her hands shook so violently that she had to let go of her gun for fear of firing again. She hadn't a clue what to do, but her body reacted on instinct. She cupped her hands over Robin's chest where the blood spewed freely, and she pressed down with as much force as she could manage. "No, no, no, please."

A quiet wheeze escaped Robin's lips, and Emma's frantic heart flared with a spark of hope. She locked onto his eyes, his fluttering eyes. They fluttered so quickly that she could hardly hold his gaze, and then they blew wide as he gasped in a hard breath.

Emma kept one hand pressed to his wound and used the other crimson-covered hand to grab for her radio.

"This is Sheriff Swan," she practically screamed into the radio, her thumb pressing so hard against the button that she feared she might break it, and her voice trembled and trembled and trembled as she continued. "I need an ambulance right now!"

She rattled off the address and the best assessment she could offer as far as Robin's condition, and then she locked onto the man's fluttery gaze again. His breathing had become so rapid, so shallow, and he watched her. He watched her as if she was the only thing holding him to the world of the living any longer.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, and she didn't know why. She didn't know why she was sorry. The man had attacked her, and he had been planning to kill Regina. He deserved this, didn't he? It wasn't as if she had done it on purpose. It had been a gut reaction, and yet, guilt was rapidly flooding her chest, and she was. She was sorry.

His hand came up and gripped around her arm. He gripped her tightly, fingers practically pressing into her bones, and then Emma saw it—the nod. He nodded at her, gently, his eyes locking onto hers as if to say it was okay. Tears broke and slipped down her cheeks as she watched the life ebb away from those light eyes and then his fast breathing leveled into one long, streaming hiss before it died entirely, and the man was still.

So still.

He was gone.

* * *

Emma's head was throbbing, her body riddled with earthquakes, as she was led from Robin's cellar and out into the harsh breeze of the Storybrooke night. Her father's hands felt heavy against her arms as he patted her and attempted to soothe her. She could still feel Robin's blood soaking through her shirt and making the material stick uncomfortably against the flesh beneath. She couldn't look down. Couldn't see it.

She had already explained to David what she had found out about Robin Hood and how the shooting had come about, because somebody other than her had to take the statement. David had been completely shocked by the newfound knowledge about the man they had all been taken with, and his mouth had gaped upon seeing the coffin holding the preserved form of Marian.

When the EMTs emerged from the house, pushing a stretcher with a covered body atop it, Emma thought her entire world was collapsing around her. She felt like she didn't even know who she was in that moment. Would this feeling fade? Would this guilt leak away as she came to accept that it hadn't been her fault? Would it get better?

In that moment, no. In that moment, it only got worse, because the flashing lights called attention to the scene. People began to pour from their homes and the surrounding businesses, cell phones already pressed to their ears—calling, gossiping, assuming.

And when purple smoke swirled through the air to plant a very confused Regina Mills in the middle of the scene, Emma's heart crumbled in her chest—turning to dust as the curiosity in Regina's chocolate eyes turned to panic in the flashing lights of the ambulance.

Emma's chest clenched so forcefully that she had to press her hand there. She pressed and pressed, but the ache wouldn't be relieved. Not even her father's arms around her provided her any comfort, not with the sight before her.

Regina's eyes instantly met hers. Emma was the first person she saw. That chocolate gaze tracked down from Emma's wet cheeks and bloody temple to the copious blood saturating the blonde's shirt. Regina's eyes instantly widened.

"Emma," she said, breathlessly, quickly making her way to the blonde. Her hands were already extended and sparkling with magic. "What happened? Tell me, so I can heal you. I can heal you."

"No," Emma barely managed to say, shaking her head as tears she couldn't prevent tracked down her face. "Not…it's not my blood, Regina."

She watched as that statement sank in, and then Regina seemed to realize exactly where they were. Regina's eyes traced over the scene, to Robin's house, and then to the covered body on the stretcher. She watched as Regina's hands began to shake.

"What…" Regina almost whimpered. "Emma, what happened?"

Her voice was strained. Her voice was a choking scream trapped inside a whisper, and it crawled on Emma's skin like a cancer she knew she could never be cured of.

Emma shook almost violently as she pushed out of her father's hold and drew closer to the woman. "Regina, I'm…I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out between chattering teeth. "He just…and I couldn't…I shot him."

"No," Regina said, shaking her head frantically. Tears hadn't come to her eyes, but Emma could hear them in Regina's voice. "No," she said again, more firmly. And then she was gone, running from where they stood to the stretcher being hoisted into the ambulance, the clack of her heels somehow thunderous even in the buzz of the crowd.

Emma watched as Regina uncovered Robin's expressionless face. She watched the shaky hand cover Regina's mouth as the brunette stumbled backward, back and back and back. Regina merely shook her head over and over, and then she whirled on Emma.

Regina's eyes were like fire in the flashing red lights of the ambulance. "You," she whispered, breathlessly, and Emma knew. Emma knew it was all wrong.

"You killed him," Regina said, and Emma couldn't even deny it, because she had. So, she just nodded. She nodded and she wept openly and she wished Regina could see her soul in that moment, could see how much this pained her.

"I did," Emma admitted as Regina continued to gape at her, tears now escaping onto olive cheeks. "I didn't mean…it was an accident. He was going to—" and then she just stopped, because speaking was too hard, because Regina's ears were deaf to her excuses in that moment.

"He was my…" Regina started to say, her hand going up to cup over her mouth again. "And you took him."

Somehow, they found their way to one another, their tear-stained faces now sharing the same breath. "Please," Emma whispered. "Please understand, Regina."

"You took him," Regina said again, her voice growing stronger, angrier. "He was a good man."

"No, Regina, he wasn't what you thou—"

"No!" Regina barked, snarling now in Emma's face. "You don't get to speak! You don't get to say anything to me!"

"Regina," David said, his voice a warning as he stepped toward the two women, but Emma waved him back.

"Regina," Emma tried, herself, "I'm so sor—"

"He was my chance!" Regina practically shouted, and before she could stop herself, her hands came out and made hard contact with Emma's shoulders. She pushed the blonde violently away from her. "He was my last chance! And you took him from me. I thought you were different." She threw up a hand in David's direction, pointing. "I thought you were different from them, but you're not, are you? You're just like your disgustingly superior parents." Her voice was shredded with her tears. Her eyes were ablaze, and Emma's ashen heart grew colder and colder with every word. "You would do anything to make sure I don't get my happy ending, wouldn't you?!"

A soft gasp ripped through Emma's throat, her emerald eyes tormented by that accusation. She opened her mouth to deny the claim, to explain that she had only been trying to protect Regina, that she valued Regina, that she loved Regina, that she had been willing to swallow her own feelings just to let Regina have that happy ending with someone else. But she didn't.

There was so much painful sincerity in Regina's eyes, and Emma couldn't breathe beneath the weight of that gaze. She thought she might never recover from its sting.

So, instead of saying something, instead of fighting back, instead of telling the truth, Emma sucked in a hard breath, turned on her heel, and ran.

She ran as far and as fast as she could, the flashing lights still burning on her eyelids like hot coals.

* * *

Regina didn't ask questions. She didn't care to know the details, not that night. Once Emma ran, Regina did as well. She disappeared in her signature smoke and reappeared in her bed, in her lonely and quiet home, and she finally let herself really cry.

She didn't mourn a love, because she hadn't loved Robin. She had not come to love him yet. She mourned her attraction. She mourned their growing connection. She mourned the loss of his bold remarks and witty jokes. She mourned all the ways they were alike. She mourned Roland's loss of a father. She mourned all the possibilities. She mourned the future they could have had. She mourned the loss of her last chance at True Love.

She mourned the loss of Emma as well. Regina didn't know that she could ever forgive such a betrayal, especially when such a betrayal made no sense.

She hadn't heard Emma's spluttering excuses. She had been deaf to them, too stricken by what she was seeing. She had seen the haunted look in Emma's eyes though. It was a look that spoke of true regret, of sincerity, and yet, Regina could feel nothing but rage where Emma was concerned.

Just like Snow, Emma now represented the loss of a True Love, and just like with Snow, Regina hated her for it.

Emma didn't return home for days, two days to be exact. She had contemplated drowning herself in the ocean, just to make the pain of Regina's accusation and the guilt of what she had done fade away, grow quieter and quieter and quieter until they both were silent. She had contemplated leaving and never returning.

But she did. She did return. She spent a night on the beach, not sleeping in the cold air. She wandered through the woods. She kept trying to find air, trying to find cleaner, purer air to fill her lungs, but no matter how much she walked, no matter how much she sucked in the air, she never felt like she could breathe. Her chest was too tight, her lips were too dry, and her cheeks were too taut with the tears that had dried. Her body was numb to living.

When she finally went back home, Snow and Charming nearly fainted. They had been terribly worried, and the only reason they hadn't sent a search party out for her was because as soon as Emma had left the scene that night, she had texted for them to let her be for a while. Snow's gasp upon seeing Emma's crusty, bloody shirt was loud and jarring. It felt like an assault.

Emma didn't look at them. She couldn't. She couldn't look at her son either, so she was happy he wasn't there. She didn't know where he was, most likely with Regina. Emma was glad for that. Regina would need someone, and Henry was her heart, so it was better this way.

Emma walked past her parents and up the stairs to the bathroom. She had to peel her shirt from her chest. It pulled and even scraped her flesh in places where the blood had dried painfully to her skin. It sickened her. Once she was naked, she tried to drown out the sounds of the world beneath the searing rain of a shower.

It hardly quieted at all.

* * *

Regina moved around her kitchen like a ghost, floating from point to point and feeling so detached from the world. Her son sat behind her at the breakfast bar, watching her carefully. She could feel his eyes on her back. He was always watching. He had been watching since that night, when Snow had brought him over to be with her. He had wanted to support her.

Because Henry knew what happened. David had told him upon returning to the apartment. It wasn't that they thought Henry necessarily needed to hear about such terrible happenings. It was more that Henry needed to know the whys of the situation, especially if Regina didn't.

He needed to understand why Emma had taken a life, and why that life had been that of the man his other mother had been seeing. He needed to know why. He needed to know so that he could be prepared for all that would follow.

Emma lost herself. She disappeared often in the first week following Robin's death. She didn't eat much. She didn't sleep much. If she was home, she was quiet. She was still. She was curled in a ball in her bed. She was broken.

Regina hadn't been the same. She had, instead, forced her courage forward, her strength, and she had done her absolute best to continue existing normally, to be a mother, to be a strong woman who wouldn't fall apart. She never wanted to fall apart again.

But on the inside? On the inside, she was just as shattered as Emma, and the thing that bothered Regina the most was that she wasn't even shattered because of Robin. She was shattered because of the Savior—because she no longer understood how to exist with Emma, how to repair, or if they could even begin to repair anything at all.

"You should see her," Henry said quietly, and Regina let out a long, staggered sigh.

"No," she whispered in answer, and Henry echoed her sigh.

"You should see her, Mom," he said again. "You don't know everything. You need to know."

"Then tell me, Henry," Regina replied, almost pleadingly. She turned toward her son then, her eyes desperate. "You have continued to claim that I don't know everything, that I don't understand, but you won't tell me. Tell me what I am missing."

"Everything," Henry told her simply, his eyes filled with sorrow as he watched his mother attempt to fight back tears.

"So tell me, Henry, please."

Henry had tried to convince Regina many times over that first week that she should go see Emma, that she should learn the truth, but it was clear that Regina was not going to go. She wouldn't go without some form of armor or without understanding already brewing in her heart, and she had neither.

If she wouldn't go, if she wouldn't learn from Emma, then he would have to tell her.

"It wasn't her fault," he admitted quietly after several long moments.

"Henry—"

"It wasn't," he said again quickly, cutting her off. "I know you're just going to think I'm saying this because I didn't like him, but Robin wasn't the person you thought he was."

Regina's heart clenched at the sound of his name, because the image of Emma covered in blood and shaking and crying outside of the man's house that night instantly came flooding back into her mind.

"You haven't left the house in a week," Henry continued. "Maybe you should. Maybe you should talk to some people so you can learn what really happened."

"Why should I when _you_ can tell me?" Regina asked him, her voice gaining a hard edge that warned the subject should soon be dropped. She was losing her patience.

Henry just shook his head and leaned it against his hand on the counter. "Because, Mom," he whispered. "You never believe."

* * *

The bell jingled quietly at the top of the door as Regina stepped into Gold's shop.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would stop by," Rumpel said as he stepped from the back room.

"How did you know I would come at all?"

"Because I know you, dearie," he answered her. "As much as you and I like to jab at one another, you still consider us on the 'same side'."

"And?" Regina deadpanned.

"And," Rumpel continued, "you feel safer getting your information from someone who is perhaps more like you than like those who have always condemned you. Am I right?"

Regina just stared at him for a long moment, loath to admit that the man was right, before simply huffing out an annoyed breath and nodding. "Those who have condemned me and yet apparently see no harm in one of their precious own committing murder, you mean?"

"Touchy," Rumpel said, smirking. "But then, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Ah, ah," Rumpel told her. "What will you give me in return for the information?"

"Really?" Regina deadpanned. "I could easily just go ask one of the idiot Charmings for the same information."

"But you won't," Rumpel replied with a wicked chuckle.

"Fine," Regina snapped at him. "The payment is that you ruined my life for your own benefit, and if it weren't for me, you would still be my sister's little Rumpel-on-a-leash. Now, tell me what I want to know."

Rumpel sighed dramatically, bouncing his shoulders. "Oh alright," he told her, "but just this once."

"Out with it," Regina hissed. "Why did Emma kill him?"

"To save _your _life," Rumpel told her simply, his index finger pointing to Regina even as his hands rested atop his cane. "It seemed you were but a pawn in dear Robin's game, dearie."

"What?" Regina snapped at him, her eyes going wide.

"Oh yes," Rumpel answered. "It seems you aren't the only one who once tried to bring a lover back from the dead."

Regina couldn't quite fathom was she was hearing, what Rumpelstiltskin was implying. It slithered across her heart like a poisonous creature that couldn't be tamed, seeking to squeeze and break and devour.

Without another word, Regina turned on her heel and fled the shop.

* * *

Emma practically jumped out of her skin when the scent of a woman she thought would never speak to her again infiltrated her senses and Regina's voice suddenly filled her room.

"Is it true?" Regina asked quietly.

Emma rolled over in her bed to find Regina standing just inside the room, having obviously entered with magic since the door was closed and locked. Emma looked up at her with sunken eyes and an aching heart.

"Is what true?" the blonde whispered, her voice ragged even as it was hardly more than breath.

"Did you kill him to save me?" The words were thick and strangled as they spilled from Regina's lips like syrup.

Emma wished she could disappear as she saw her own tears echoed in Regina's eyes, both sets refusing to fall. She pushed herself off of her pillow and into a sitting position on the mattress. Her head swam dizzily with the motion, lack of sleep and food catching up with her body. "Yes," she choked out a moment later as she pressed her hand to her head to try and alleviate the pain.

It didn't work.

Regina just stared at her, her heart thundering faster than what she thought she could handle. It beat so forcefully against her chest that she felt faint standing there in the small room, the air dying around them as it filled with their shared sorrow.

"I need to know," she admitted after several long moments of painful silence. "I need to know what happened that night."

"You know what happened," Emma told her, voice raw and eyes cold with all the ways she had given up. "I killed him."

Regina wanted to snap at her, wanted to shake the Savior back to life, but instead, she merely stared. She waited. She hoped Emma would continue. She hoped Emma would help her to understand, help her to banish the hatred in her heart for the one woman who had always seemed to know her, who had given her a chance when no one else would, not even her own son. She didn't want to hate Emma. She didn't want to feel this rage, this hurt, this darkness.

She was done with the darkness.

And then, "He was going to kill you," Emma said so quietly that Regina nearly missed it. "That night I saw you, that night at the diner when you kissed him and I was there…I saw him cut a piece of your hair and hide it in his pocket."

Regina gasped at that. "Why didn't you-?"

"Would you have believed me?" Emma asked, voice hollow as she glanced up at Regina's conflicted eyes. "You were taken with him. Even when I tried to talk to you about him after, you got mad at me. You got defensive. I didn't want to upset you."

"Emma, I—"

"So, I followed him," Emma told her. "I watched him. I tried to understand why I had such a bad feeling. I tried to put my own feelings aside."

"Your own feelings?" Regina questioned quietly and Emma merely sighed and nodded.

"Yeah," the blonde whispered. Then, plainly and as if she was merely talking about the weather, she said, "You see, that night when I saw him kiss you and you kissed him back…that night, Regina; that was when I realized I was in love with you."

Regina's head spun with that information. Her heart pounded even harder and yet she somehow managed to keep it inside her chest. Her skin felt electric and itching. Her palms began to sweat. Her lips parted as she gaped at Emma silently. There were no words that would come.

Emma glanced up at her and chuckled roughly. "Yeah," she muttered. "That was my reaction too."

They just stared at one another for a long time, the silence deafening as it surrounded them, before Emma spoke again. "And then I saw him, the night he died, the night I…" She hesitated, swallowing thickly and looking away from Regina's deep and soulful eyes. They were too much for her in that moment. "He looked nervous, so I followed him. I just…I had a bad feeling. I broke into his house, and found him in a cellar under his living room. He had one of those science kits that you have; maybe it was yours. He was making a potion with your hair, and I heard him talking. I heard him talking about what he would do with it, and I didn't know who he was talking to."

Emma's voice became terribly strained as she carried on, forcing the words out because Regina deserved to know. Tears slipped down her cheeks. "So, I got closer, and I heard him say his wife's name, like it was her he was talking to. But I thought she was dead, so I thought maybe he was a little crazy or I don't know, Regina, high or something. But then he said that when you took the potion, you would die and Marian would be alive again."

Regina's own face was flooded with tears as she gasped softly and moved closer to the bed, just a few steps. Emma's scratchy voice and soaked cheeks drew her closer, made her ache, told her things that she wished she could erase; that she wished they both could erase. Anger swirled in her chest as she thought of the man she had believed to be genuine, the man who had sought to take her life.

"And I just…" Emma sucked in a hard, stuttering breath. "I just panicked. I followed him further into the cellar and his wife was there. Her body was frozen or…it was preserved somehow in a coffin. I pulled my gun on him, and he didn't deny anything. He said that Zelena had offered him a deal and was supposed to bring his wife back in exchange for your heart, but then we beat her, and he had to make the potion on his own. He…he said the potion would take a life to give a life. Yours for Marian's, and I couldn't…Regina, I couldn't let him take my…and Henry. I—"

Emma's words were broken by her sobs at this point, and Regina found herself dropping onto the bed beside her. She squeezed Emma's hands so tightly that they were both surprised their bones didn't break.

"He hit me with a chair, and I made a mistake," Emma told her, pointing to the red, yet scabbed and sealed cut at her temple. "I lowered my gun just an inch, just an inch, and he jumped at me. It scared me, Regina, and I just shot. I just pulled the trigger."

Regina squeezed Emma's hand again, tears streaming down her cheeks and slipping down her slender neck.

"It was an accident," Emma finally whispered. The blonde then turned fully toward her, green eyes shimmering with the full weight of her heartache. She locked gazes with Regina as she forced her voice steady, squeezed Regina's hand, and firmly said, "I _do _want you to have your happy ending, Regina. "

"Emma, stop," Regina tried to say. "I—" But Emma cut her off.

"No," Emma said, pulling Regina closer. Her eyes were pleading and so was her voice. "I _do _want you to have your happy ending, and I would've stayed away so you could have it with Robin. I would've buried how I feel forever, but I couldn't lose you. Can you understand that? I couldn't let him take you from Henry. You're his family. You're _my _family, and it was an accident. It was an accident, and I don't know how to live with myself."

Regina caught Emma's shoulders and head in her arms as the woman collapsed into tears, murmuring how sorry she was over and over. Regina felt the sorrow of that moment, the weight of the confessions so deeply in her soul that she knew they would echo inside her forever. She knew how shaken Emma was in that moment. She understood the torment in the blonde's mind and heart, the guilt. She had experienced the same the first time she ever took a life. It changes you. It had eaten at her terribly, and_ she_ had actually _had _a reason to feel guilty.

But Emma…no. Emma was a good person. She was pure. She had been protecting her family, her love, Regina.

As soon as those thoughts swirled through Regina's mind again, as soon as the words the blonde had spoken about loving her echoed again inside her head, Regina's own feelings jolted to the surface.

So many things began to snap into place, began to make sense—the draw that had always existed between them, that pull. The understanding. The tenderness. The ferocity. The power.

Gods, the power. Together, she and Emma made magic Regina had never even known was possible. It was beyond anything she could have ever dreamed.

And that's when it hit her. It was Emma. It was Emma all along.

That night all those years ago, Tink hadn't pointed into that tavern and told Regina that Robin was her true love. She had told Regina that Robin was the _beginning _of her happiness, of her happy ending.

And he was. He had opened her up to love. He had led her to this painful moment, this torturous grief that had given her such a powerful and tender revelation.

And now here she was, holding the woman that she had always chosen, that she would always choose, even if she hadn't realized it before; holding the woman that fate had never told her to love, but that she did anyway.

She did.

* * *

Emma fell asleep in her arms, and Regina continued to hold her, continued to stroke her fingers through ratty, lifeless locks. She continued to cry.

And when she shifted to gain more comfort, pushing Emma to lie back and then curling in behind her, the blonde stirred.

Emma snorted harshly as she came awake. "Henry?" she blurted as she startled, her voice ragged and her face strained with dried tears.

"Shh," Regina whispered, stroking Emma's arm. "Emma, relax."

Emma rolled over quickly, her eyes wide as she took in the form of the woman lying beside her. "Regina," she said softly, "you're still here."

"I am," Regina answered, nodding against the mattress.

"Why?"

Regina's gaze tracked the length of Emma's face, eyes to lips, to nose, to cheeks, to forehead, to chin, to lips, to eyes again. "You saved me," she whispered.

Emma merely whimpered, unable to cry as her eyes were stinging and dry.

And then, "You love me," Regina said so quietly that it was hardly more than breath.

Emma's sigh was soft against Regina's lips as the blonde scooted closer across the mattress. She looked sadly into Regina's eyes. "I do," she answered in a breath.

Regina's eyes fluttered closed for only a moment, letting those words seep into her soul and bring her back to the woman she had once been and the woman she had been steadily becoming again, a woman light of heart and open to love.

She ran the pad of her thumb along Emma's chapped bottom lip as she whispered the same words in return. "I do."

Emma's eyes widened just slightly, her hands inching forward, aching to touch. She timidly touched Regina's side before pulling the brunette closer. "You do?"

Regina merely nodded before letting her lips barely brush across Emma's, the buzz of magic electrifying the gentle touch, and Regina knew she had been right. She nodded again, cheeks wet with the moment, as she pressed more firmly and then firmer still.


End file.
